My video camera of 15 years(!) broke last month, which has hampered this blog’s development.
As I research the new technology and edit new footage … an interlude:
Sarah Moon’s work deeply affected me the first time I saw it on May 10th, 2012
at the Howard Greenberg Gallery
on E. 57th Street, New York, NY.
These images are just to give you a flavor and are no substitute for the originals.
On May 10th, 2012, I planned to go to a series of events, which celebrated the life and work of French photography publishing Titan, Robert Delpire (more here). We had plans to hit most of the events, including The French Embassy and late night party at Hermés.
I arrived at the Howard Greenberg Gallery around 6:15 pm, knowing nothing of the exhibit but expecting to find my posse. I did the predictable gallery opening stuff: wandered through the space glancing from art to person to drink’s table to reception desk and back to art. I adopted the slow, pensive gallery-opening-walk, engaged in the polite art-talk and gave meaningful looks at the stuff on the wall. Then, something very primal shifted within.
I realized I was standing in the mists of an artist with a brilliant photographic eye … there was something so exceptional about Sarah’s photography
if you could see through all the externals …
Her work is bold and clear and seductive and subtle and sensual and hidden and revealing and just amazing … I let the work wash over me;
I read the press release – twice. I was reserved with others, but the more I looked, the more I was hooked … I was convinced …
Her vision: I determined right then that I would follow her vision
wherever she took me. I was amazed.
I was ensorcelled by her fantasy.
Accelerate to the evening’s finale: the party at The Gallery at Hermès/Fondation d’entreprise Hermès
on Madison Avenue. The show featured about a dozen contemporary photographers: all of amazing caliber and qualities worthy of renown – many of them at the party – but I just couldn’t help comparing their work to Sarah Moon’s. Now, many of these other photographers deal with social and political themes (which are important in their own way and I may write about later. Her work rarely references a particular space and time and is influenced by commercial and fashion-related forces), but the compositions and tensions between figure and abstraction of Sarah Moon’s photography were imprinted* within my neural net and I craved them.
Fast Forward to the end of the evening: about to walk out the door, I am with a friend next to an entourage of people surrounding one of the most interesting women in the room, a petite, brunette in her 70’s wearing thick, black rimmed glasses. I’d been wondering who she was all night. I finally ask my friend: “Oh, that’s Sarah Moon.” Again, a primal shift, and I walk directly into the entourage and am face-to-face with Sarah Moon. I tell her pretty much what I have just written, but wish I had said just one more thing:
“Sarah, you have made my life better. Thank you.”
*(or – depending on your metaphysical position – “awoken.” A dichotomy to be revisited in this blog, I am sure)